


Mistletoe Misunderstandings

by olivejuice28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivejuice28/pseuds/olivejuice28
Summary: Sometimes misunderstandings can lead to wonderful opportunities.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 153





	Mistletoe Misunderstandings

Oh, she was a nervous wreck. She hated being put on display by her well-meaning friends. They simply couldn’t understand that she was perfectly happy _not_ seriously dating, or casually dating, or scoping for hookups, or being set up, or any of it, _thank you very much_. How she had ever agreed to go with them tonight was beyond her comprehension. Clearly it had been a moment of weakness - massive, desperate, too-much-wine-induced weakness - that Ginny had taken full advantage of and made her promise to do things she ordinarily would have flatly refused. There was nothing for it now but to make an appearance and try to escape as quickly as possible with hopefully a modicum of her dignity intact.

At least her hair had cooperated, which was no small miracle. The curls were glossy and smooth, not frizzy and chaotic like most days, and pulled off to one side in a low ponytail. Her makeup had turned out decent, too, and her summer tan was still lingering, which always helped. She also knew her dress was cute and was quite pleased with how her strappy heels made her legs look longer. Not that it would necessarily matter; she had no idea if there’d even be someone there she’d be interested in, or who would reciprocate.

She heaved an exasperated sigh, wishing for the tenth time that hour that she had a different reason for getting so dressed up and making all this effort. It really _would_ be nice to just go out to dinner with a bloke she actually liked; someone she was comfortable with, someone who could discuss books and magical theory, someone who liked international cuisine and long walks in the evenings. She smiled ruefully at her reflection as she fiddled with her earring. _Better not let Ginny hear me say anything like that or she’ll be relentless tonight._

Knowing she really had no reason to dawdle any longer, she grabbed her purse, said goodbye to Crookshanks, and headed out the door.

She arrived at King’s Cross and found Harry, Ginny, and a handful of other friends almost immediately, all waiting in line to get into The Cross, which had just recently opened. She’d been surprised when she’d heard they were venturing into a Muggle club, but apparently it was quite popular with the Wizarding crowd as well. She glanced around, taking stock of their party and realized with dismay that almost everyone else was paired off, either with a long-time partner, or a date they had brought along. She turned a pleading gaze on her friend but was immediately met with the redhead’s palm, held up in front of her face.

“Don’t even start, Hermione,” Ginny warned. “You agreed to come here, you agreed to have some fun and give him a shot.”

“Give _who_ a shot?” Hermione’s already-high anxiety level spiked dramatically. She didn’t recall any names being mentioned. She had thought they were going out as a group, and that _maybe_ there might be someone there that she could spend part of the evening getting to know, not that she was being hoisted off on some random bloke immediately upon arrival.

Ginny pinned her with one of her Molly-ish glares and retorted, “I told you who all would be here tonight.” She gestured vaguely around the steadily-growing group. “I told you Harry invited several guys from the department.”

Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly why Ginny had refrained from mentioning specific names and was just about to call her out when Harry hollered over their heads.

“Oi, Malfoy! Over here!”

Her misgivings were immediately confirmed as the tall, pale, ridiculously handsome, and altogether too-perfect former Slytherin approached them. She shot Ginny a venomous look that her friend at least had the decency to look mildly chastised by. She _knew_ Hermione had a thing for Draco at one point, but he’d never been anything except cordially polite anytime they’d been in the same room together. _And then there was the time…Godric, how embarrassing._ She had routinely avoided Draco for months on end at this point and had no inclination to switch gears, but suddenly that was completely outside her control.

Hermione had made it very clear to Ginny after her last social encounter with him that she was done; she had given up any fanciful ideas that they might ever be more than coworkers, and she didn’t want her ridiculous crush brought up again. Ever. Apparently “not mentioning him” equaled “forcing them together” in the ginger girl’s mind. Hermione had a fleeting thought regarding disapparating on the spot but knew she’d never get away with it in such a mixed crowd.

She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves and focused on ways to exact her revenge on two of her best friends, because she was certain Harry knew about his wife’s plans for the evening, and was seriously debating between letting a niffler loose in their house, or planting devil’s snare in their garden when a voice broke through her musings.

“Evening, Granger.”

She jumped a little, not realizing he’d come to stand right behind her, and quickly plastered what she hoped was a relaxed, genial smile on her face as she turned to greet him. “Hey, Malfoy. How’ve you been?” She couldn’t help letting her eyes wander over his lanky frame as he stood casually, hands shoved in his pockets. _No one should look that good all the time. It’s entirely unfair._ She forced herself to meet his eyes and that was a mistake because she’d always been a total sucker for the steel-colored orbs that were uniquely his.

“Good,” he drawled in his dulcet tone. “Busy with that case up in Shropshire, but good. You?” His eyes roved over her and if she wasn’t trying to wrangle control of her spiraling thoughts, she might have noticed the glint of appreciation in them and the way they lingered on her mouth. Instead, she nervously fiddled with her bracelet and tried desperately to come up with something witty or charming to say, but settled for mildly self-depreciating instead.

“Oh, you know, saving the world, one three-foot roll of parchment at a time.” Her head snapped up at the sound of his laugh and she was pleasantly surprised to find he’d actually thought her comment to be funny. _He has such a nice laugh._ She snorted at herself, but he assumed she was just joining in, thankfully, and responded in good humor.

“I’ve no doubt we’ll all be owing you another debt of gratitude at some point in the not too distant future.” He smirked as he said it, but it wasn’t a taunting or demeaning sneer. It was simply a teasing look that caused her cheeks to turn pink and her stomach to do cartwheels. _Merlin, I’m definitely in trouble._ His amiable demeanor gave her confidence a slight boost and she quirked her lips in a smile and retorted.

“Well, we can’t all be ranging the countryside, chasing bad guys and winning awards. Someone needs to stay at their desk and make sure there’s some semblance of order to it all.” She cocked an eyebrow in jest and was rewarded with another hearty chuckle as he grinned sheepishly at the ground and ran a hand across the back of his neck.

“Heard about that, did you?”

“That you single-handedly captured the maniac responsible for the explosions across four counties? Um, yes, I think we all heard about that. Quite impressive, actually.”

His gaze flickered back up to hers, his self-assured posture returned. He looked rather pleased with her compliment and she couldn’t figure out why. Everyone had congratulated him on that arrest, and he’d been honored with an award for Services to the Community in front of the whole department. Before she could consider it further, however, Harry called for everyone to gather up so they could get in the club as a group.

She found herself behind Ginny, and beside Draco, whose hand was gently placed on the small of her back. She focused on the way the lights from the club’s sign reflected off her friend’s hair as a means to control her breathing and wrestle her thoughts into something coherent. She could smell his cologne and his touch sent shivers up her spine. _Apparently shelving my feelings and forgetting about him was a load of bollocks._ She didn’t want to read too much into anything that was happening. They had been talking, like everyone else, and now they were lined up to go in, like everyone else. She would _not_ assume that he meant to stay by her side once they entered the doors when there were surely other witches around to garner his attention.

Whether that scenario would play out or not remained unknown. As they reached the doors, the bouncer informed them that there was only enough room for ten of them to go in at the moment, and there were fourteen of them altogether. He told them they were welcome to wait, but that it might be an hour or more. Immediately Ron, who was there with Luna, announced they would wait because he was starving ( _no surprise there_ ) and they would go grab something to eat and come back in a bit.

Ginny turned around with a disappointed look and asked her what she wanted to do. Hermione knew how much her friend had been looking forward to checking out the club tonight, whereas she couldn’t care less about spending time in a loud, crowded, stifling room where you could barely hear the person next to you talk without screaming. It would also save her the embarrassment of being left standing on the edge of the chaos once Draco found someone more interesting to spend his time with.

“You and Harry go, Gin,” she encouraged with a wave of her hand towards the door. “It’s totally fine.”

“But what will you do?” Ginny’s eyes flashed between Draco and her friend with concern. Before Hermione could come up with a sufficient response, the wizard next to her spoke up.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat as well?” She turned to find him looking at her, brows cocked in question. Her mouth fell open in complete shock. This was the last thing she’d expected. Apparently her lack of immediate response had him backpedaling to save face. “Unless…..I mean….If you’d rather not, that’s…” he was muttering and looking at the ground now.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I would love to go get something to eat.” He met her eyes again, this time with a genuine smile on his face and she felt her heart stutter. _He really is far too attractive for his own good._ She turned back to Ginny before she did something really stupid, _like lick him,_ and ignored the all-too-knowing look on the redhead’s face. “See, all set here!”

“Mmhmmm,” Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she took in the flush on Hermione’s cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. She knew what this turn of events could mean for her friend, even if the curly-haired witch didn’t realize it yet. Truth be told, she couldn’t have orchestrated things more perfectly if she’d tried. She hugged Hermione, promised to talk to her later, and flashed her a grin and a wink as she pulled away. “Take good care of her, Malfoy,” she ordered with mock sternness.

“Of course,” Draco gave an affected bow and extended his elbow to Hermione. “M’lady?”

Hermione couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips at the ridiculous display, but wrapped her arm through his all the same, figuring she’d enjoy his attention as long as it was bestowed upon her. “Lead the way, kind sir.” She waved goodbye to Harry and the rest of the group who were now being let through the roped-off entrance and turned her focus back to the wizard by her side. He had placed his other hand on top of hers, holding it firmly on his arm and was watching her intently.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked as his gaze roamed over her face. She was still just as enchanting as ever, and he couldn’t believe his luck at the moment. He hadn’t really cared about going to the club; that wasn’t typically his style; but when Potter had mentioned she would be there, he couldn’t pass up the chance. He’d been trying to work up the courage to approach her for months, and now they were embarking on a whole evening together. He hoped she truly wanted to go with him and wasn’t just being polite when she’d agreed. Merlin knew he wanted this chance.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She stopped walking and chewed on her bottom lip as she thought for a few seconds, scanning the street before them. His eyes, however, were trained on her, his pulse picked up speed, and a massive desire to find out how soft that pink pillow of flesh actually was took up far too much of his brain. “I’m not as familiar with this part of town as my own. I don’t really know what our options are.” Her voice broke into his fascination and his gaze flickered back up to her chocolate brown eyes. She met his own and was momentarily lost in their pewter depths until he spoke.

“I’m acquainted with a handful of places,” he offered, his mind quickly compiling several possible options and outcomes. “What do you feel like?”

Her eyes flew wide at the question. Since _climbing you like a tree_ was not a viable answer, she shook her head to clear it from the haze slowly descending on her the longer she was with him. “Umm….” she struggled to form a coherent thought. “I like Italian…” she trailed off pathetically, still staring at him and the way a shock of his hair hung just slightly over one eye, begging her to swipe it to the side.

He chuckled and observed her curiously. She seemed a little muddled, which was unusual for the typically-quick-witted witch, but maybe the sudden change in plans had thrown her off. He didn’t care, as long as it meant spending time with her. “There’s a great place about two blocks from here that serves an amazing veal parmigiana, if you like that?”

“Sounds lovely,” she concurred and flashed him a brilliant smile.

 _Keep doing that, and I’ll be in serious trouble_ , he thought.

In no time, they were at the door of a lovely restaurant on the corner of a quiet street. Their conversation along the way had been light and friendly, and no one observing the pair would have suspected the internal mayhem going on. Hermione wanted nothing more than to back him into a wall and cover his face and neck with kisses until he couldn’t breathe. Draco, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how to admit he’d had a crush on her for two years now without sounding like a complete sod.

Seated at a table in the back of the cozy establishment, she deferred to Draco’s familiarity with the menu as he ordered a bottle of wine and a couple of starters. They continued to chat, filling each other in on bits of non-work-related information they might not know, like favorite authors and the books that had shaped them the most at an early age. They also touched on their best school subjects and what they felt had been most useful, now that they were out in the working world. At one point, the topic turned to their department’s Christmas party the previous year and Hermione became rather sullen. Draco noticed and asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing,” she started to deny that it was a sore subject, but her second glass of wine thought better of it. “Actually, no, it wasn’t nothing.” She pinned him with an irritated glare and he suddenly felt apprehensive. “You walked away.”

He was completely nonplussed. _What was she talking about?_

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”

She chuckled wryly, “Actually, you did follow, and that was the problem.” She knew she might regret this admission later, but at the moment she needed him to understand. “Do you remember the conversation we were having near the punchbowl?” He nodded slowly, a sinking feeling starting to pool in his gut, but not quite sure where she was going with this.

“Yes, well, do you also remember Alecia coming up and refilling her cup, and then pointing out that there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging above us?” She was still scowling at him and he was beginning to grasp her train of thought. “She said that, and you looked up at it, and then immediately turned and followed her across the room. It was like you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” To her horror, she felt her eyes fill with tears. She remembered going home shortly after the mortifying experience and crying herself to sleep. That was the night she officially gave up any hopes of Draco Malfoy ever being interested in her.

He stared at her, totally gobsmacked and tried to wrap his mind around the implications of the anger and hurt she clearly held him responsible for. _Had she wanted him to kiss her?_ That thought drew him up short and at first he considered it impossible, but then why would she be so upset about the whole thing? Embarrassing as it might be, he needed some clarification.

“Did you,” he cleared his throat and fiddled with his wine glass. “Did you _want_ me to kiss you that night?” He forced himself to watch her face for the truth of her answer and was hit with equal amounts of elation and shame as she shrugged, her lower lip trembling and two tears trailing down her cheeks. She looked down at her lap where she was twisting her napkin as if trying to strangle it.

He huffed a sigh and gave a rueful chuckle, which caused her head to snap back up and her eyes to pierce him with fury even as tears still fell. “I’m so, so sorry, Hermione.” He extended his hand across the table to her, willing her to hear him out. “You misunderstood. I didn’t walk away because I didn’t want to kiss you.” Her eyes widened and she took a deep shuddering breath. After wiping her face with her tormented napkin, she timidly placed her hand in his and he grasped it firmly.

“I walked away because I didn’t think in a million years that _you_ would want to kiss _me_.” He rolled his eyes at his own apparent stupidity. “I basically ran away, rather than endure the embarrassment of being turned down.” She studied him intently and he could see her mentally piecing it all together.

“But, why tonight then? Why all of a sudden take a chance?” She couldn’t help the confusion that colored her tone. She had liked him for almost a year, and had tried to get closer to him during that time, but to no avail. If he wasn’t interested in her then, what had changed now?

Draco sighed deeply and shook his head. “At that point in time, I had only been back in the public eye for about a year and a half, and a lot of people still had nothing positive to say about anything connected to the Malfoy name.” He met her gaze with an intensity that surprised her. “I didn’t have anything to offer you. I was still trying to work my way back to being a respectable member of Wizarding society. There was no way I was going to drag you down to my level. I needed time to make something of myself, to accomplish something on my own, so that no one would wonder why in Merlin’s name you’d agree to go out with me.”

Her heart squeezed at his confession, both from knowing that people would absolutely have questioned her sanity, as well as the fact that he had such a low opinion of himself. His honesty sparked her own courage as she replied.

“I’ve never really cared what other people thought, you know.” His steel gaze bore into her as if trying to read the chaotic thoughts bouncing around in her brain, a look of mild skepticism crossing his features. She needed him to understand. “You’ve done amazing work in the department over the past couple of years, work you should be tremendously proud of.” His cheeks tinged pink at her compliment. “But I would have said ‘yes’ to dinner long before now, and I wouldn’t have run screaming from you under the mistletoe.” She smirked at him and reveled in the sheepish grin he was trying to hide.

He studied her for a few moments, bolstered by her admission, and decided to just throw everything out the carriage window and take a chance. “I think we need a do-over.” She cocked her head to the side in question, watching him intently. “Would you be my date to the office Christmas party this year?” A pleasant warmth spread through his chest as she blushed and nodded, looking rather bashful all of a sudden. She glanced down at her lap for a second or two, nibbling on her lower lip, sending another fiery jolt straight to his core. When her amber eyes met his again, they were sparkling and a teasing smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“You do realize that the party is still over two months away, right?”

“Of course,” he responded with confidence. “I intend to spend those two months showing you why it was such a marvelous idea for you to take me up on that invitation.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her smile grew wider. “Possibly the most intelligent decision you’ve ever made, really,” he sniffed with an air of superiority, and she responded by giggling in such a delightful way it made him want to scoop her up and do unmentionable things right there at the table. He couldn’t believe the path the evening had taken them down, and felt the urge to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t just a fanciful dream.

As their plates were cleared away, Hermione found herself reluctant to end the evening. She had enjoyed every second with the witty yet thoughtful wizard across from her and knew that, if she had anything to say about it, this was only the first of very many moments they would be sharing. She allowed herself a small, contented sigh as he focused on the waiter and paid the bill, mentally berating herself for almost ditching her friends and the whole outing earlier. _Ginny will have kittens when she finds out._ That thought caused a small chuckle to escape, which drew her date’s attention back to her as the waiter walked away.

“Something amusing?” he drawled good-naturedly.

She shook her head, huffed a breath and explained, “I was just imagining how Ginny will react when I tell her about tonight.” He arched a brow in question. She rolled her eyes and admitted, “For starters, I didn’t even want to go, but I let her talk me into it. Then, when I got to the club and realized she already had someone she’d planned to hoist me off on….” She let the thought trail off and shrugged. “She’ll be right chuffed with herself.”

Draco reached across the table and played with one of the stray curls framing her face. “I’m more than pleased to be the recipient of the hoisting, I have to say.” She blushed again and leaned into his touch, his warm hand setting her cheek on fire.

“Me, too,” she whispered, gazing at him in what she knew was a rather dreamy, and very unlike-herself way, but not finding the urge to care at the moment. If the thrumming of her heart and the acrobatics in her stomach were any indication, she was falling very hard and very fast for the man staring at her right now as if she was the most fascinating piece on display in a museum.

Draco’s own thoughts were traveling a similar route as he let himself get lost in the warmth of her deep brown eyes, the pretty pink tinge of her cheeks, the perfect cupid’s bow of her lips. _What I wouldn’t give to kiss her right now._ Needing to collect himself, lest he act on that thought, he glanced out the window for a moment and then back at her, “It’s a lovely night for a walk, if you’d like to take one?” The brilliant smile that lit up her face answered before her words did, but she breathed out a blissful acceptance and they stood to make their way to the exit.

Again, as in the line at the club, Draco placed his hand on her back, but instead of making her jittery and anxious, this time it felt familiar and comfortable, and sparked a sensation in her that she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. Once outside on the sidewalk, he offered his arm again, earning himself another adorable giggle, and they fell into step as they strolled leisurely back in the direction they had originally come. Their repartee continued to flow easily and before either of them realized, they were outside the club where they’d left their friends. The line to get in was even longer than before, and none of their group seemed to be anywhere around.

“Well, I guess they’re all either still inside, or they’ve left for the night,” Draco observed. “Were you supposed to meet up with the Potters at some point?”

“No, I didn’t make any plans beyond joining them at the club,” Hermione smirked slightly. “I actually intended to make an appearance, endure a few songs and a drink or two, and then head home to the peace and quiet of my boring, little flat, where I could spend the rest of my evening with a cup of tea and a good book.” She chuckled lightly, “Very exciting, I know.”

“Actually, peace and quiet and a cup of tea are highly underrated,” he teased, a slow grin spreading across his handsome face.

She took a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t reading him completely wrong, and offered, “Would you like to come back to my place for a cuppa? I’ll even lend you a book if you’d like.” She winked at him and was immensely pleased to see his eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink. His grin broadened as well as he ducked his head closer to her ear and murmured, “Not sure I’d be able to concentrate on the text with a beautiful woman in the room.” He pulled back and flashed a roguish grin, “But the tea sounds lovely.” She shivered from a combination of his breath on her skin, the compliment he’d bestowed, and elation from knowing the night wasn’t over yet. She nodded, unable to form an intelligible sentence at the moment, and tipped her head in the direction of the apparition point she’d used earlier.

As they walked, their conversation was muted by the cacophony of music and loud chatter pouring from the various clubs, pubs, and taverns on the street. It seemed each one was determined to outplay the others, with speakers blasting, and some having small stages set up outside for live performances and open-mic events. At one point, Draco started to ask what type of music she liked, but his words were completely drowned out by an electric guitar suddenly blaring to life, causing both of them to jump and then laugh at the startled look on each other’s faces.

When they reached the apparition point, which was located in a small alley tucked between a pub on the corner, and a dry cleaner that was closed for the night, Hermione laced her fingers through one of Draco’s hands and turned to face him.

“Ready?” she asked almost nervously. She had definitely not anticipated bringing a bloke home with her that evening, and most certainly would never have imagined it to be this particular wizard. She hoped her flat was presentable; she was currently having difficulty remembering what state she’d left her kitchen in as she stared into his slate grey eyes. He nodded and smirked, causing her stomach to flip, and then wrapped his other arm around her waist as she turned them into the empty air.

In the blink of an eye they were standing in the middle of her cozy and welcoming living room, Crookshanks perking his scruffy head up from his spot on the couch at their sudden appearance. The quiet that greeted them was almost as deafening as the mess of noise they’d just left behind and it took a second for the unlikely pair to untangle themselves from each other and take steps apart, chuckling shyly as they each assessed the other. Draco wanted nothing more than to pull her close again and snog her senseless, but he was determined not to come off like a graceless oaf who was only after one thing. He’d waited far too long for the opportunity to court this witch and he’d be buggered if he was going to muck it all up by getting handsy with her the second they were in a private setting.

Hermione, for the umpteenth time that night, was reminding herself it was not ladylike to grope a wizard on the first date – which she was definitely considering this to be – especially not one who had been so polite and gentlemanly all evening. No, she would rely on her well-stocked reserve of self-control and _not_ tackle him to the floor and strip him down, no matter how much she might want to. _And she really, really did want to._ Instead, she waved towards the couch, invited him to make himself comfortable, and headed into the kitchen to make the aforementioned cups of tea.

Instead of sitting right away, for he had far too much pent up energy to do so, Draco perused the shelves of her over-stuffed bookcases. In between two ceiling-high sets, there was a lower one with an odd contraption on it that looked similar to something he remembered his grandmother having; a gramophone, he thought it might have been called. He recalled her putting a round disc on it, waving her wand, and music would come out of the big, fluted horn on the side. Next to this piece of technology, there was a wicker basket full of flat squares that displayed names and images of people he assumed were musicians.

“Hermione, what’s this?” he called out, his curiosity getting the better of him. She poked her head around from the kitchen and saw where he was standing. She chuckled to herself. She should have known he’d be fascinated by something like that.

“It’s a record player,” she replied while walking towards him. “My parents used to have one and we would play music on it all the time. When I got my own place, they bought me one of my own and even let me have some of their old records.” She gestured to the basket. “You were asking before, what kind of music I enjoy,” she glanced up at him and he nodded for her to continue. “I like lots of different styles, but my favorite is the stuff my folks grew up with, bands from the late 40’s to the early 60’s.” She started thumbing through the collection until she found the record she was looking for in the stack and pulled it out. She slid the album out of its cardboard sleeve and showed it to him. He nodded, recognizing it as the same thing his grandmother had owned.

“This one is a collection of greatest hits from various artists, and it’s one of my favorite albums,” she carefully placed the record on the player, turned it on, and set the needle in place. Immediately, soft music filled the space between them as the first strains of Vera Lynn’s “ _A Nightingale Sang,_ ” floated into the air. Hermione grinned at the look of pleased surprise that crossed the tall blonde’s face and handed him the jacket to peruse as she made her way back to the kitchen. She hummed the familiar tune as she poured the tea and plated some biscuits, swayed in time as she arranged everything on a small tray and took it to the coffee table in front of the couch, which her half-kneazle had abandoned as soon as the music started. She bit her lip to stifle a giggle as she watched Draco moving slowly from side to side, clearly in time with the music, as he read the back of the album cover.

“It’s alright, yeah?” she asked, causing him to whip his head around, unaware that she had come back in the room. He smirked and once again her stomach performed acrobatics in appreciation. _Keep doing that, mister, and I’ll make no promises about ladylike behavior._

“Definitely,” he placed the cover in the front of the basket and made his way over to her, his eyes never leaving her face. To prevent herself from ogling him further, or worse, drooling over his ridiculously attractive features, she leaned down and removed her heels, wiggling her toes in the soft carpet. When she looked up again, he was right in front of her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Loads better than that toss at the club, I think, and much nicer to dance to.” With that, he wrapped one arm around her waist, and gently took hold of her hand, bringing it up alongside them. She automatically responded by placing her free hand on his shoulder and smiled shyly up at him through her lashes. She was quite a bit shorter now, without her shoes, and was a little bit self-conscious; she’d never been the most graceful on the dance floor. That was probably the only thing she appreciated about night clubs; the music was so chaotic that no one cared how you moved to it. Slow dancing, however, had always made her feel uncoordinated and stiff.

“I’m glad we came back here,” Draco said softly and she glanced up to meet his gaze. He was smiling at her in the sweetest way and she felt her heart stutter. She had imagined a moment like this with him for so many months, and now, here he was, in her living room, holding her close, and telling her he was happy about it. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her eyes sting with mortifyingly blissful tears. To keep him from seeing what a complete sap she was, she leaned her cheek on his chest and hummed in agreement, blinking furiously to clear the wetness from her eyes.

The first song faded to an end, and a second one began, this one Jimmy Young’s “ _Unchained Melody._ ” The couple continued to sway in a small circle, oblivious to anyone and anything outside the walls of Hermione’s flat. She had never felt so content, nor so comfortable, with a man before. Ron had been her best friend, but romantic moments between them had been strained and awkward, and had only happened a handful of times before they both realized they simply weren’t meant to have that kind of relationship. The short list of blokes she’d dated, while nice enough on the whole, never sparked any sort of connection or deeper interest. This was different; so vastly, indescribably, and monumentally different. She’d never put much stock in love-at-first-sight or soul mates or any of the fanciful fluff that romance novels are made of, but for reasons she couldn’t explain she felt like she _belonged_ with him.

As Draco tightened his hold slightly on the beautiful witch in his arms, he marveled at how perfect she felt there. He’d danced with his fair share of women, as pureblood society often demanded, but none had ever felt like they were made for him like Hermione did. For all the elegant ballrooms and glamorous galas he’d encountered, this was by far his favorite dance floor and he highly doubted that would ever change. Whatever was going on tonight, it was going to be a long-term deal, if he had anything to say about it. He had been teasing her earlier, about proving she’d made a wise choice to go to the party with him, but he was very much looking forward to making good on his word. He wanted to take her out and show her off; wanted to shower her with gifts and compliments and tokens of his appreciation and affection for her; wanted the whole world to know that she was his.

Just as he was about to put words to his sentiments, the fireplace roared to life and out of the green flames stepped Ginny, who stumbled to a halt upon seeing the couple before her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she registered the scene in front of her. Hermione had lifted her head off Draco’s chest, but had otherwise not changed her posture, and although they had stopped turning, they were still gently swaying with the music. The redhead took in the dazed smiles on both faces, the sparkle in both sets of eyes, and the slight blush on both pairs of cheeks, and grinned in response. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’d gotten home alright since we didn’t know where you’d gone off to,” she addressed her curly-haired friend. “I can see you’re in perfectly good hands, though, so I’ll just be off.” She winked at Draco and turned back to the floo with a promise to check in tomorrow as she disappeared with a “whoosh.”

Hermione chuckled lightly as she glanced up at her dance partner, “I’d say I agree,” she murmured.

“With what?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I think I’m in perfectly good hands, myself,” her lips tugged up in a small smile as she watched his eyebrow arch and his trademark smirk appear.

“I should certainly hope so,” he scoffed teasingly. “Although I have been wondering something,” he peered intently into her expressive brown eyes and she tilted her head in question. “Do I have to wait till we’re back under the mistletoe to kiss you?” Her eyes widened and he felt her take in a quick, surprised breath. He smugly watched her gaze flicker to his mouth and back up again.

“No,” she breathed out.

“You sure?” he asked in a low rumble. “I wouldn’t want there to be another misunderstanding.” This time, when she looked at his lips, she licked her own and shifted slightly towards him.

Taking that as an invitation, Draco let go of her hand and used his to gently cup the back of her neck as he lowered his lips to hers. Fireworks seemed to go off behind his eyelids, and a spark of magic tingled down his spine. Her lips were softer than he’d imagined possible and he was engulfed with the intoxicating smell of her perfume. He angled his head to deepen the kiss and heard her make the tiniest sigh, and knew that this was it. He was done for, and that was perfectly fine with him. She’d run both her hands up into his hair, her fingers carding through the soft, pale strands, and she slid them down so her palms rested on the sides of his face, her thumbs caressing his cheeks as she pulled back to catch her breath.

Her heart was racing and coherent thought abandoned her, leaving only a searing desire coursing through her as she traced the smooth skin at the corners of his lips. “There’s nothing to misunderstand,” she whispered as she captured his mouth with hers once again, rising up on her tiptoes and melting into him even further. This drew a bit of a growl from somewhere deep inside him as he wrapped both arms securely around her and allowed himself to get completely lost in the feel of her. In the background, Perry Como’s “ _Magic Moments_ ” had just started to play, but the change in tune was completely lost on the young couple as they made sure to clearly and thoroughly communicate their intentions.

**Author's Note:**

> Another happy ending for my favorite couple. I hope you enjoyed this one, just in time for the holidays!
> 
> *If you haven't already, I would love for you to check out some of my other o/s Dramiones: "The View From Here," and "Unfinished Business." Thanks so much for reading!*


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